Burnham Government Accused of Sidelining Local Communities to Fast-Track Asylum Seeker Camps at Former Military Bases

Two disused Army bases in England are at the centre of a growing political dispute over democratic accountability, after the government moved to bypass local planning authorities and fast-track the conversion of the sites into accommodation for asylum seekers. The decision — which hands approval power to Housing Secretary Angela Rayner rather than the elected planning committees of the affected communities — has drawn criticism from MPs across party lines, including from within the governing Labour Party itself.

The mechanism being deployed is a national infrastructure planning route, ordinarily reserved for projects deemed to be of strategic national importance. It carries no formal requirement for public consultation, though applicants are expected to “engage with the community” — a formulation critics describe as conspicuously vague. The two sites in question are located near RAF Barnham in West Suffolk and in the constituency of Bicester and Woodstock in Oxfordshire.

A Process Under Scrutiny

The use of this accelerated route has drawn immediate and pointed objections. Nick Timothy, the Conservative MP for West Suffolk, argued the process was being deliberately deployed to “cut out local people” from decisions that would materially affect their communities. His concern is not merely procedural: the RAF Barnham site sits within his constituency, and its conversion would represent a significant change to local land use without the usual democratic checks that planning committees provide.

More striking, perhaps, is the dissent emerging from within Labour’s own ranks. Terry Jermy, the Labour MP for South West Norfolk, acknowledged openly that the move sits in uncomfortable tension with the government’s stated commitment to devolution. “The risk for the current government,” Jermy said, “is that we are quite rightly focusing on devolution and power to local communities and this process would seem to be the opposite to that. There’s a contradiction in our approach.” That admission — measured and precise — carries particular weight coming from a government backbencher.

Calum Miller, the Liberal Democrat MP for Bicester and Woodstock, was more blunt, describing the process as “an affront to democracy” and accusing the government of deliberately circumventing local representatives. He directed his sharpest remark at Prime Minister Andy Burnham directly: “Andy Burnham has said that the era of Whitehall dictating to communities is over. This is his chance to show that he means it.”

The Broader Context

The controversy arrives against the backdrop of Burnham’s recent public declaration that more affluent, “middle-class” areas must “play their part” in housing asylum seekers, even where doing so carries a higher cost to the public purse. The statement positioned the government’s asylum dispersal policy as a matter of fairness and shared national responsibility. Critics now argue that invoking national necessity to override local objection represents the same Whitehall-centric logic the Prime Minister has publicly disavowed.

A government spokesperson defended the approach, stating that the process would ensure “members of the public will be able to submit their views,” and pointed to the administration’s broader commitment to ending the use of expensive asylum hotels as the driving policy rationale. The hotels, which have attracted sustained public and parliamentary criticism for their cost and conditions, represent the status quo the government insists it is trying to move beyond.

Accountability and the Democratic Gap

What the episode exposes is a structural tension that sits at the heart of asylum policy across democratic governments: the pressure to act quickly and at scale on a politically charged issue, against the slower, more contested rhythms of local democratic participation. The national planning route exists for a reason — certain projects genuinely cannot wait for the full weight of local deliberation. But its application here, to what are essentially residential facilities for a vulnerable population, raises legitimate questions about proportionality and process.

The communities near these former military sites have not been formally consulted. Their elected planning representatives have been removed from the decision chain. And the government’s assurance that the public “will be able to submit their views” does not, in any legal or procedural sense, replicate the scrutiny that a local planning committee would apply. That gap — between the language of engagement and the reality of exclusion — is precisely what the MPs across three parties are pointing to.

Whether the sites ultimately open, and on what timeline, remains to be determined. What is already clear is that the government’s chosen mechanism has generated a political cost it may not have fully anticipated — one measured not in column inches, but in the credibility of its own stated commitment to localism.